


Solace

by Shoshanna Gold (shoshannagold)



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-12
Updated: 2009-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshannagold/pseuds/Shoshanna%20Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a sight for sore eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> This is work of fiction based on characters in the HBO miniseries.
> 
> I wrote this for the [Kisses/Cuddles](http://bribitribbit.livejournal.com/624455.html) battle [](http://bribitribbit.livejournal.com/profile)[**bribitribbit**](http://bribitribbit.livejournal.com/) hosted. I am all about the schmoop, always, and yet, somehow, I ended up writing a sort of sad little piece for the prompt 'medal'.

Brad let himself into the dark apartment quietly, startling a little when a light clicked on and somebody spoke to him.

"Iceman ain't gonna get the jump on me. 'Specially not when he's louder than a bull in a china shop."

"Jesus, Shawn." He dropped his backpack in the doorway and strode over to the couch, where Pappy was sitting. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"We got word just before the ceremony, and I didn't think it was much of a good idea to leave him alone after that." Pappy stood, and Brad skipped the usual handshake, pulling him into a hug. Pappy hugged back, almost squeezing the air out of Brad. Not many men in the world could do that, but the ones who could he called brother.

"Christ, I forgot you were being awarded your medal today. Congratulations are in order, my friend."

"For all of us, Brad. I sure as hell wasn't alone out there." Pappy sat back down on the couch. "I think I'd feel better about it if I didn't know they're gonna hand out a bunch more after today."

Brad sat down, too, as Pappy poured a healthy splash of bourbon from the bottle sitting on the end table. "You want the glass or the bottle?"

Fuck, he wanted ten bottles. "I'll take the glass."

"You gonna go see to your boy?"

"In a minute. You're a sight for sore eyes, too."

Pappy nodded, and they sat in silence, Brad using the drink as an excuse for the question he didn't want to ask. "I got on a plane not long after I heard the Captain was killed," he said, finally. "There's a message on my cell to call Cara, but it's ass o'clock in the morning there, and I figured Nate would know anything she had to tell me."

"Maybe more. Me and him were working the phones pretty hard 'til bout an hour ago. All the guys in the first humvee are fucked up, but they're all gonna live. Eric's badly hurt, I guess. The rest of our boys out there, from all accounts, are shaken up as all hell, but ain't nobody else hurt."

"Rudy?" Fuck if he wasn't holding his breath.

There were tears in Pappy's eyes. "Not a scratch."

"Thank fucking Christ." Brad exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. "How the fuck did we come to be here?"

"Sure wasn't by the grace of God, I know that much."

They shared a grim look, and Brad tipped his glass at Pappy. "Nate pass out?"

Pappy shook his head. "Tried my damnedest, but the boy's been hangin' out with devil dogs too long. He's plumb wore out, though, so I sent him to bed 'fore he fell asleep in his whiskey.""

"And he went?"

"I been wranglin' officers since before he knew what ROTC stood for. Damn straight he went." Pappy eyed Brad. "You look like you've been ridin' hell bent for leather across the whole Atlantic Ocean."

"Are you sending me to bed, too?"

"Sure am."

"Fuck, it's good to be home." Under other circumstances, this would be downright amusing.

"Pretty good to have you here, too." Pappy stretched out on the couch when he stood, asleep before Brad reached the bedroom. Typical grunt.

Officers were a different breed entirely.

There was just enough ambient light in the bedroom for Brad to see Nate sit up and look at him, his face pale and unhappy. "I didn't think you'd be here so soon."

"I got lucky, managed to find a transpo headed to Andrews."

Brad hadn't stopped since the call telling him about the ambush: arranging leave, packing, finding a flight. He'd plugged into his iPod on the plane, not wanting to think. Everything caught up with him as he stared at Nate, and he felt himself break wide open. "Nate, I-" His throat closed. There were no fucking words for this.

"Yeah. I know." Nate's voice was gentle. "Come here."

Brad went, sitting on the bed to take off his boots. Nate rubbed his shoulders. That touch was his undoing; there was no fighting the tears that came.

Nate didn't say anything, just pulled him down. Their arms wrapped around each other, and Brad pressed as close to him as he could, needing nothing but Nate against him, alive and whole.


End file.
